


Never Letting Go

by aceofhearts88



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Sam, Bottom Sam Wilson, Comfort, Dirty Talk, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sam needs all the love he can get after this movie, Smut, Steve taking care of Sam, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers, blowjob, in foreign languages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't like how quiet Sam has gotten on the plane, he doesn't like the distant look and the shivering. All he wants is to take him away, to bring him somewhere where he can keep him safe, where they can be alone. His veins are burning with the need to comfort Sam, to show him that they were safe, that he got out, that it all would be okay now.</p><p>They were together again. And Steve would give all love to Sam now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yous are in order: to Tess for the Portuguese, to Julie and HyperRaspberry for the French and to MoonIsNeverAlone for the Title help and overall idea developing for this.
> 
> Translation for the lines in those languages below the fic!

„Will you guys be okay down here? Anything you need?” Steve wanted them to feel safe and comfortable but he also prayed they would say no, hoped and prayed they would just wave him off. Sam was leaning heavily into him now, staring down at his hands with a perplexed frown on his face that Steve didn't like it all, he had become too quiet as well. Snarky as they rushed through the Raft and then suddenly dead quiet on the plane, no full sentences anymore, just short answers, gestures and looks.

Shaking until Steve had draped his jacket over him, had knelt down in front of him and rubbed his arms, told him again and again that he was out of that cell now.

“We'll be alright.” Clint spoke the words Steve had been desperate for, guiding Wanda into the bedroom downstairs, while Scott wandered into the kitchen. Steve breathed a tremendous sigh of relief and turned back to Sam at his side, still wearing his jacket, sleeves hiding the scratches on the back of his hands and the bruises on his wrist.  
“Hey, you with me, Sam?” He asked quietly and with great delay Sam looked up at him, prompting Steve to curl a hand around his jaw, carefully and gentle, “You wanna take a shower?”

“Yeah.” Sam whispered and then closed his eyes, leaned another fraction of weight against Steve's shoulder, and Steve bit his lips to keep from asking more questions. What did they do to you? What did they ask you? What did they do when you didn't answer like they wanted? Did they hurt you? What did Tony say? Have you slept at all? Eaten? Had something to drink?

Instead he curled his free hand and arm around Sam's waist and drew him against his chest, let the hand on his face move to the back of his head, fingers softly stroking through black hair. Sam remained motionless for a moment, but then he breathed out against Steve's chest, warm breath against shirt and skin, loud and shaking, unsteady.  
“I'm here, you're safe.” Steve whispered and dropped a kiss to the top of Sam's head, pressed two more into his hair.

Sam exhaled tremblingly and brought his hands up slowly, as if they weighed tons, to clutch weakly at Steve's shirt on his back.  
“Can you stay with me?” Sam wanted to know, the first full sentence or question since Steve had feared to be losing him to the demons in his head on the plane.  
“If you want me with you, I will stay right at your side.” Steve promised with another kiss to Sam's head, felt arms tighten around him, Sam turning his face so he could push his ear over Steve's heart, listening, holding on.

“Please.”

And Steve didn't need to hear it twice, so he pulled back just enough until he could slide one arm up from around Sam's waist under his shoulders and let the other one push around his knees from behind, picking him up flawlessly and easy. Sam looked up at him in surprise, mouth falling a little open with a breathy gasp, but his hands already knew what to do, curling around Steve's neck to hold on.  
“I hope you don't mind.” Steve mumbled, maybe a little embarrassed about his sudden move, remembering vividly how many times in the past Sam had bitched about being thrown over shoulders in a fireman's carry or picked up like some damsel in distress because Steve had felt like teasing.

This time there was nothing teasing about it. 

His head was screaming with only too goals in mind, protect and take care. Protect and comfort. 

Sam shook his head, frantic almost, sighed and went nearly limp in Steve's arms, finally giving in to the bone deep exhaustion in his body, no more pretending, no more adrenaline left to hold up a facade in a prison cell. His head rolled against Steve's shoulder and Steve kissed his forehead, before starting towards the stairs. 

\--

He ruled the shower out the moment he set Sam down on his feet again and needed to immediately reach for him to keep him from falling over, Sam made a surprised sound and then grumbled over his own lack of control, but Steve was too damn happy to hear him talking again to say something. Keeping one arm looped around Sam's waist, he turned on the water in the tub and poured in some of whatever flower scented bath additive he grabbed first, and swore to give Natasha a giant piece of her favorite chocolate if they ever saw each other again.

“Where are we?” Sam asked and cocked his head to the side, looking around the room and the black night outside the window.  
“We're safe.” Steve answered him, leaning down to plug the drain of the tub when the water had switched to warm, “For now, we are safe here.”  
“But where?” Sam pushed, turning slightly to look at him as good as he could with the way he still was leaning against Steve.

“We're in Russia. In a safe place, no one will find us here, this place doesn't exist in any records.” He could see the thought in Sam's eyes and nodded, “Yeah, Nat's.”  
“Is she safe?” Sam wanted to know and groaned when Steve lowered him to sit down on top of the toilet, kneeling down in front of him, dragging a hand over his face.  
“I think so. She...she knows how to start anew, how to keep herself safe. If Clint isn't worried, I'm not either, he knows her better than anyone else.” He explained and Sam sighed, set his hands in his lap, then on his thighs and then reached for the hem of his shirt.

They undressed quietly, and Steve bit back and swallowed every cry, every wince and every angry outburst over the bruises that got revealed on Sam's chest and back. He only moved when Sam was done, last sock off and him standing in the middle of the bathroom, looking at him with tired round eyes and shivering slightly as the warmth of the bathwater slowly filled the room.

“I'm so sorry.” He whispered, but Sam shook his head, took two wobbly steps over to him and brought both hands up to clasp behind his neck, fingers playing with blond strands of hair.  
“Don't be sorry, don't blame yourself. Not tonight. We can't change what happened, we have to find a way out of this now. Not now, tomorrow, the day after.” Sam spoke quietly and Steve curled both arms around his waist and pulled him closer, careful, so very very careful, not wanting to hurt him, and then leaned down and kissed him.

It was sweet. Slow and careful, both of them so exhausted but so happy to be reunited again.

It hadn't happened what Steve had feared to happen. He had come back from Siberia to get Sam out of this hell on the Raft. He hadn't lost him.

He helped Sam into the tub and slipped in behind him, turned off the water and coaxed Sam to lean back against him. He started out slow, grabbed a washcloth and let it soak before gently and carefully sliding it over Sam's arms. Sam relaxed even further, pushed himself into every touch so that Steve pressed a kiss to his head and wrapped one arm around his waist while his other hand continued to clean the dirt, the sweat and the feeling of the Raft from Sam's skin.

“Been so long since we had a bubble bath.” Sam whispered, a few minutes after he had blindly grabbed one of the shampoo bottles and given it over to Steve so that he could turn to his hair.  
“I can't even remember.” Steve confessed and smiled when Sam gasped upon feeling his fingers massage his head, rubbing the shampoo into every single hair.  
“DC, my old apartment, day before you went back to New York to meet with...the team to go after that damned scepter for the first time.” Sam reminded him quietly, breaths deepening even more when Steve had dropped his hands and the massage to his shoulders, “Oh that feels so good.”

Steve smiled as Sam groaned in satisfaction and pushed himself further back against him, Steve wrapped his arms around Sam's waist again, didn't care about rinsing the shampoo out of his hair again right away. They had time, they could enjoy, they could rest. 

\--

After they had cleaned themselves and had switched out the water for a fresh warm refill, Steve let his hands focus once more on rubbing the last tension from Sam's body. They had switched positions, Sam lying back into the water now, head laid back against the end of the tub while Steve hovered over him, knees resting on either side of his hips as he breathed butterfly kisses against the other man's neck.

Showering all parts of him with kisses, that's what he wanted to know. Touch him, hold him, feel him.

“Steve...” Sam gasped almost soundlessly, but it still drew Steve back from where he had been staring down at him, hands resting on his hips, thumbs slowly drawing circles on his skin.  
“I'm here.” Steve repeated his promise and leaned down to kiss Sam, tender and no more bruising desperation, slow, drawing it out, feeling every inch of those lips he loved so much pressed against his, moving against his, “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Sam answered, letting his head fall back again, eyes closed, Steve smiled and moved one of his hands to the inside of Sam's left thigh, carefully stroking over the sensitive skin there. Sam groaned, deep and full of want. Steve didn't let himself be asked twice and propped his left hand up on the edge of the tub right next to Sam's head, his right one curling fingers around Sam's cock, half hard and still filling.

He began to stroke him, from the tip right down to the root, with steady and prolonged pumps, smile widening when Sam let his lips fall open. Panting breaths echoed back from the tiles on the wall, Sam raised his hips, pushed into his grip, wordlessly asking for more. Steve was only happy to provide just that, his strokes picking up in speed, his lips attaching themselves to Sam's neck, his knees pushing further between his legs, prompting Sam to spread them wider.

“I love you.” He whispered in the other man's ear, kissing and sucking gently on his earlobe, Sam gasped and keened his back, “Je vais prendre soin de toi.”  
“Steve...” He begged and Steve knew what he wanted, so he sat back on his heels, let go of Sam's cock, earning himself a loud whine for it, that quickly turned into a breathless moan though when Steve slid both hands under his ass and pushed his hips up.

Up until Sam was floating in the water for good, propped up on Steve's hands and had his own hands clutching at the edges of the tub.  
“What are you...doing?” He wanted to know with still panting breaths and Steve smirked, didn't answer with words but instead leaned in and licked a stripe up Sam's cock, “Oh...Ohhh...ooh.” And he ended it with a loud and downright filthy moan when Steve wrapped his lips around his cock.

“Steve, fuck...” Sam cried out when Steve took him down fast, swallowing around the head and humming, licking and sucking and bopping his head. Only one goal in mind, “Steve...oh...” He grabbed Sam's ass harder, pushed him to thrust into his mouth as good as he could from his position, kneaded flesh and dragged nails over skin. He wanted Sam to feel him, wanted him to feel the pleasure curling through every limb and every vein.

He opened his eyes when Sam cried out for him again, head thrown back, eyes closed, lips wide open, chanting Steve's name and a breathless “please, please, please” over and over again. Steve sucked harder, let Sam hit the back of his throat, once, twice and then hummed in pure delight when Sam tensed and came with a loud “Steve!”

\--

Sam's gasps had slowed down, breathing evening out again as he floated in the aftershocks of his orgasm, when Steve helped him from the tub and rubbed him down with one of the fluffy towels from the shelf.

“I feel like cotton candy.” Sam giggled when he looked down at his hands as he stood naked but dry in the middle of the bathroom. Steve snorted and toweled himself down, grabbing his shorts again and his shirt to be at least decent enough to go downstairs again in a few minutes. He caught sight of Sam eying the dirty rags from the Raft, and quickly stepped in his line of sight to keep his thoughts from going down that line again.

“Hey, you can have clothes of mine. I only brought as much as I could grab on short notice, didn't have the time to look after sizes.” He apologized but Sam shook his head, stepped in between his legs and wrapped both arms around him again, leaning his head against Steve's chest, “Did I manage to get you high? Come on, we both need some water.” He untangled himself from Sam, if only reluctantly so, but as much as he wanted to never let go of him right now, to let their bodies melt together, he wanted to get some water, food and sleep into Sam first.

He grabbed the smaller man's hand and let him over into the master bedroom, over to the king-sized bed with its comfortable looking pillows and thick blankets. Sam crawled under them with a sound falling from his lips that could have made Steve rock hard under any kind of circumstances, and he froze by the table in the corner, closing his eyes and willing himself to focus.

Water. Food. Sleep.

And then the rest.

He grabbed two bottles of water from the dufflebag and then turned back around, smiling when he saw Sam splayed out over the bed, blankets only covering half of his legs now. His head and upper body sunk back into the wall of pillows, brown eyes focusing back on Steve, lazy smile curling his lips upwards.  
“I want a bed like this.” Sam declared, closed his eyes and turned his face to the side, further into one of the pillows, and he breathed it in.

Steve chuckled and walked up to him, sat down on the edge of the bed and handed over one of the water bottles, “Drink up. Please.” Sam turned to look at him again and accepted the bottle, both of them opened theirs and just watched each other drink. They had never really done this before, spend so much attention on the other one doing the most mundane things, but now, where they had come so close to losing each other again, now things were different.

“Are you hungry?” Steve wanted to know just five minutes later, water bottles empty and him curled around Sam on top of the blankets, drawing circles on his stomach and snickering when said stomach answered that question before Sam could.  
“Yeah, kinda starving to be honest.” Sam admitted and still preferred to nuzzled against Steve's throat while he stroked his hand up until he could cup Sam's face, leaning down to kiss him again.

“I'll get us something to eat, get some rest.” Steve mumbled between kisses and then pulled back, only to stop when Sam grabbed his wrist, “I'll be back, I promise. Half an hour, tops. Close your eyes, babe.” He pulled the blanket over Sam, who mildly glared at him for just a second before giving into the comfort of the bed again, face relaxing and eyes falling close.

Steve still needed a long moment to rip himself away from the image. Sam so relaxed and resting, safe and comfortable. No more prison clothes, no more cell, no more uncertainty in brown eyes, no more bone deep exhaustion, no more pain. Comfort, happiness, pleasure. Steve would give everything now to make him feel it all.

He walked back down into the kitchen and was surprised to find Wanda sitting at the table, wearing a purple sweatshirt and wrapped in a soft beige comforter, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands. She looked up when Steve reached the bottom step and smiled faintly at him, but Steve's heart jumped in relief at seeing her respond again. At the stove, Clint was steering something in a pot, humming something under his breath, moving easier again now.

Steve made his way over to him, brushed a hand over Wanda's hair and smiled when she leaned into his touch for a short moment before going back to her tea. In the living room, barely visible, Scott was asleep on the couch.  
“Are you cooking?” He asked Clint who rolled his eyes when he glanced over to him as Steve came to stand next to him at the counter. He was in fact cooking, pasta and some simple tomato sauce.

“Two more minutes. You wanna take it up for Sam and you?” Clint offered and Steve nodded, maybe it was selfish, to lock them away, to keep them isolated when they were all shaken up so bad, but all Steve wanted now just that. Alone with Sam. Get his head to calm down, to quieten down.  
“If it's okay?” He asked nevertheless and Clint smiled at him, reached out a hand to pat his arm.  
“Take care of him, okay? I got things down here.” Clint assured him and carried the pot with the sauce over onto the table, one finger tapping against Wanda's nose as he turned around again.

Steve loaded two plates with food, let Clint stick the forks and spoons into his mouth and then wandered off again, back up the stairs, back to Sam. He set the plates down on the nightstand and the cutlery right next to it, before kneeling on the bed, at Sam's side, one hand going out to gently stroke through his hair where Sam was curled up against the mountain of pillows, eyes closed.

“Sam?”

“I am so stealing Nat's bed.” Sam mumbled sleepily and blinked open his eyes, Steve grinned, leaned down to kiss him, again and again, until Sam's stomach reminded him again to put his focus somewhere else. They got settled against the headboard side by side, and ate in almost silence, exchanging some tidbits of conversations then and there, but Steve could feel and see how bone deep the exhaustion in Sam was now. Even as he chewed, he could barely keep his eyes open, preferring to lazily blink into the room. 

It shocked him honestly how incredibly possessive this need in his chest felt, the need to care take of Sam, to make sure he was comfortable, to make sure no one could hurt him anymore now, that he could heal and be safe. No one had ever made him feel like this, and never had he felt love this intense.

He knew Sam was more than able to protect himself, to stand up for himself. He had saved Steve's life on more than just one occasion, but still, at the end of the day Steve wanted to wrap him up, to hold him close and keep him warm. To protect him at night, when the demons in their heads were the loudest. 

Sam sacked against him after Steve had set the plates and cutlery back onto the nightstand, and he wrapped an arm around those bruised shoulders.  
“Let's get some sleep, hm? Does that sound good?” He asked and Sam gave a breathy little sound and nuzzled against his neck, “I'll take that as a yes.” Steve chuckled but still pulled back the covers and then slowly lay down so that Sam could follow him.

The loud noises in his head quietened down when Sam sprawled himself over his chest, tangling their legs together and resting his head right over Steve's heart. He pulled the blankets over them and switched off the lights. Sam's breathing didn't take long to even out, one of his hands tightly wrapped into Steve's, his other one curled around fabric of his shirt.

Steve laid awake for a while still, staring into the darkness of the bedroom, his free hand stroking through black hair, fingertips dancing down over Sam's spine, stroking back up again. For now, they were safe, for now they could rest.

\--

Sam woke with a whimpering cry some hours later that had Steve hovering above him in under a second, his hands carefully stroking over wet cheeks, “I'm here, it's okay, it was just a dream.” He soothed and kissed the tears away. Sam wrapped both arms around him, holding on tight and pulling Steve down on him.

“Steve, I...I need...I need you, please. Please show me I really got out.” Sam begged and pressed desperate lips against Steve's neck, “Show me, please. I need you.”  
“I'm here, Sam, I'm here. I got you. Tu vas te sentir tellement bien.” And the French did him in, Sam relaxed again, sunk back against the bed again, Steve shrugged off his shirt, “Turn on your back, yes? I'll take care of you, I got you, Sam.”

He straddled Sam's thighs once he had turned around, warmed up his hands even more and then started to rub the warmth into Sam's back, unworked the knots and strains, massaged every last remaining ounce of tension out of Sam's muscles. Sam's breathing evened out again, though he was far from falling asleep, breathy little moans escaping his lips from now and then.

And when Steve noticed Sam grinding his hips down into the mattress, he smirked and leaned down, brushed his lips against Sam's earlobe, whispering “I love you so much” into his ear before sliding down. He moved to kneel between Sam's legs and pressed both hands onto Sam's ass, groped and pressed, groaned upon the feeling of firm cheeks in his palms, Sam moaned.

“O teu rabo foi feito para mim. Podia olhar para ele o dia todo e nunca me cansava.” He groaned out, and then stopped speaking for a while, his lips too busy reacquainting themselves with every inch of Sam's ass. 

\--

“Abres-te tão bem para mim.” Steve praised in a whisper against Sam's ear, sliding two fingers deeper slowly until his fingertips graced over Sam's prostrate, having him twitch and gasp out. And then slowly out again, Sam tried to chase after them with his hips, tried to keep them inside of him, but Steve soothed him with a few gentle kisses against the corner of his lips, “Be patient.” 

Sam groaned and grabbed onto the sheets harder.

“Do you want more?” Steve asked and Sam moaned, loud and breathy, rolling his head against Steve's neck, nodding, and Steve moved his own head just enough so that he could catch Sam's lips in a kiss again. Licking into Sam's mouth at the same time as he let a third finger slip in with the two already busy thrusting in and out. Slow. Gentle. 

Sam's hands flew up to clutch at his back then, mouth open, loud panting gasps falling from his lips, mixed with deep groans, his body keening up into every touch, every push of Steve's finger inside of him. Steve moved his fingers a little faster, then slower again, repeated it until Sam was thrashing his head from side to side.

“Steve...” He cried out and his hips stuttered, his cock hard against his stomach, “Steve, please...stop teasing.” He begged and Steve kissed him again, soothed with his free hand against his hip and then sat back up again. Watched his fingers thrust into Sam's hole for a few seconds and then so very slowly drew them out completely, Sam whined, high and wanting.

“I'm here, it's okay. Fazes-me sempre querer mais.” He told him, smiling as he stroked his hands over Sam's hips before grabbing onto them. He flipped their positions, leaned back on his back while Sam fought for a second to get his equilibrium back, sliding down to straddle his hips, legs spread wide. “You okay?”  
“More than good.” Sam answered him and grinned, his hands resting on Steve's chest, “Like this?” He wanted to know and ground down against him.

“Yes.” Steve gasped out and then threw his head back, thudding it against the headboard when Sam stroked a hand over his cock, grabbed him and pumped him a few times. He fisted his hands into the pillows that were thrown all across the bed by now, forced his hips to keep still when Sam rolled the condom over his cock, Sam's own hips were moving restlessly.

“Come here, please.” Steve pleaded after a moment of them just looking at each other and sat up against the headboard, drawing Sam closer, until he was hovering right over where Steve wanted him the most, “You ready?” And at Sam's nod, Steve let him take the pace as he slowly lowered himself down onto Steve's cock. Slowly, oh so slowly, feeling every inch of him sink down, until with one loud moan from both of them, Steve bottomed out.

For a moment they held still, just breathed and looked at each other, so deeply connected with each other. Sam moved first, leaned in to kiss Steve with tender lips, his hands slowly stroking over Steve's waist and then his arms, up to his shoulders before he curled both hands together behind Steve's neck and whispered “Move” against Steve's lips.

Steve set his hands upon Sam's ass, groaned in pure pleasure and stared up into Sam's wide blown eyes as he thrust up and pushed Sam down on him at the same time. Sam gasped, Steve moaned. They took some time to find a rhythm, let it be sloppy and lazy until Sam ground himself into Steve's thrusts, head thrown back then and holding onto Steve's shoulders as he bounced himself on Steve's thighs.

“Não consigo contigo a mexeres-te assim, a dares-me tão bem.” Steve hissed, frantically kissing along Sam's collarbone and shoulder, his hands pulling Sam down on him harder. Sam panted, his lips so full and bitten down on, his eyes closed, sweat pearling down his chest. “Sim, com mais força, mais força. Mais depressa, Sam, mais depressa.”

When Sam's hips began to stutter, losing their rhythm, and he keened his back with a loud gasp whenever his cock rubbed against Steve's stomach, followed by an even louder cry of Steve's name, Steve took the initiative again. He flipped their positions once more and pushed right back in when Sam's back hit the mattress, a short staccato of sharp hard thrusts that made Sam scream, begging for more and more.

Steve smiled, leaned down to kiss Sam, slow and careful, all gentle when his hips were all but, needing the sharp contrast to be sure that Sam understood what Steve already felt. They were out, they were safe for now, they were together again, they had made it out, they would be okay. They had each other. They loved each other. 

“Eu vou te foder, vou te foder tão bem.” He breathed out, knowing that it always drove Sam so much more towards release when he spoke in other languages. 

\--

He felt it when Sam got close again, felt how his body got that last bit loose, how his fingers dug nails even deeper and harder into his shoulders. How his hips became restless in their thrusts. Sam's breathing got hitched, a flow of quick breaths.

“Steve...Steve...Steve, please.” He panted and pleaded, thrashing his head from side to side and throwing it back, exposing his hard working throat. Steve took one second of watching him this far gone into the pleasure, watching him in that moment where nothing existed beyond the hot curl of lust and pleasure and euphoria in his soul.

“Come for me, Sam, come for me.” He gasped out himself, his hand tightening a fraction more around Sam's cock as he stroked up again. And Sam was gone, came with a silent cry and his body went tense and tight and Steve needed only one more deep thrust himself before he came as well. Catching himself and rolling them onto their sides to not crush Sam with his weight, he pulled Sam into his arms and leaned his head back to catch his breath.

“Tu es à moi.” He found his mouth babbling after a while, hand stroking over Sam's back as they floated in the aftermath of their orgasms, “Tu es à moi. Mine. And I'm yours, only yours.”

\--

Steve hummed happily to himself as he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and soaked it with warm water before walking back over to the bed. He knelt down on the mattress and smiled at the sight of Sam still half passed out, sprawled across the bed on his back, eyes closed, breaths still in the process of slowing down.

He reached out a hand and let it carefully stroke up Sam's thigh, shushing him when the other man twitched, leaning in to kiss his open lips.  
"Je suis là, tout va bien." He whispered and Sam relaxed again, went limb once more, and Steve got back to humming and cleaned him up, soft strokes and gentle hands. He brought the cloth back into the bathroom and then curled back around Sam on the bed, stroking through his hair as he waited for Sam to come back to him in body and mind.

“Je t'aime.” He breathed out into the once more dark room, fingertips ghosting over Sam's naked back, “I love you so much, Sam. And one day...one day...Je vais te marier. Nous serons ensemble pour toujours... lorsque le bon moment arrivera." His heart calmed, his mind to rest once he had spoken those words out loud that he had wanted to yell into the world since the moment chaos had rained down on them. He never wanted to lose Sam again. He couldn't live without him.

Sam shifted even closer, pushed a leg between Steve's, kissing his neck, his jaw, his cheek until his lips could lazily claim Steve's.  
“I love you, too.” Sam whispered back at him, one arm curling around his waist and holding on tight, “Until the end of time. Never letting go of you again. You'll never go anywhere again where I can't follow you. Promise me, Steve.”

“I promise.” He replied immediately, “I swear to you, Sam, on my life. Je ne vais jamais t'abandonner." He promised and swore to Sam and himself, no more running away from the commitment, no more fear. No more Cap, no more fighting, no more missions, “I won't go anymore. I love you, I want to be with you.”  
“And I with you.” Sam yawned and then buried his face in Steve's neck, tugging on the blanket until Steve helped him pull it over them.

And as he fell asleep curled around Sam, he thought about the future, thought about a ring on his finger and Sam's, thought about saying yes to them in front of all their friends. Thought about being with Sam forever.

\--

Two days later, Steve got a blinding surprise, when Wanda turned one of the closets in the downstairs bedroom upside down in a desperate hope to find something to read that wasn't the Russian crime novel she had already read twice. Wanda only found one other book though, something with a tacky cover that had Clint laughing so hard when he saw it that he doubled over and was still wheezing for breath when Steve and Sam returned from their help.

Ignoring whatever had Clint in stitches, Sam shuffled over to Wanda who was glaring at the book in her hands as if it was its fault to have been written in a language she didn't speak.  
“Oh, I know that one, it's beautiful.” He said and Steve's head turned blank, complete brain freeze while he stared at Sam throwing himself on the couch next to Wanda and taking the book from her, scrolling through the pages before he stopped on one.

His lips opened and Steve felt his heart exploding when the fluent beautifully spoken French slipped from that perfect mouth.  
“You know French?” Clint asked when Sam was done with whatever extract he had chosen, Sam snorted and handed the book back to Wanda.  
“Since school. One of my grandmas is from New Orleans, French Quarter, wanted to have something I could speak with just her.” Sam replied, grinning at Clint and then looking over to Steve who felt like his legs were about to give out.

“Steve?” Sam asked and he could see him walk closer, could feel him take his hands and stroke a finger down his cheek, his head going in circles and up and down the rollercoaster ride. French, Sam knew French, Sam had learned French in school.

All this time.

All this time he had understood.

Understood what he had said. To him. About them.

“I know you're freaking out right now.” Sam said quietly, stroking over his face and chest while Steve stared at him, “But to make it simple, the answer will always be yes. Oui, Je vais t'épouser."

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Translation for the Portuguese and French lines:
> 
> In French:
> 
> Je vais te marier. Nous serons ensemble pour toujours... lorsque le bon moment arrivera. - I'm gonna marry you, when the time is right, we'll be together forever.  
> Oui, je vais te marier. - Yes, I will marry you.  
> Tu es à moi. - You are mine.  
> Je t'aime. - I love you.  
> Je vais prendre soin de toi. - I'm gonna take care of you.  
> Tu vas te sentir tellement bien. - You're gonna feel so good.  
> Je suis là, tout va bien. - I'm here, you're safe.  
> Je ne vais jamais t'abandonner. - I'm never letting go of you.
> 
> In Portuguese:
> 
> Abres-te tão bem para mim. - You open up so nice for me.  
> O teu rabo foi feito para mim. Podia olhar para ele o dia todo e nunca me cansava. - Your ass was made for me. I could look at it forever and never grow tired of it.  
> Fazes-me sempre querer mais. - You always make me want more.  
> Não consigo contigo a mexeres-te assim, a dares-me tão bem. - I can't with you moving like this, giving to me so good.  
> Sim, com mais força, mais força. Mais depressa, Sam, mais depressa. - Yes, harder, harder. Faster, Sam, faster.  
> Eu vou te foder, vou te foder tão bem. - I'm gonna fuck you, gonna fuck you so good.


End file.
